


Anchor

by epaynter



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Comfort, Father-Son Relationship, Found Family, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:27:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23176198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/epaynter/pseuds/epaynter
Summary: Jake impulsively decides to visit Kevin and ask for advice- with two bottles of wine,of course, to make sure he can get past the front door.
Relationships: Kevin Cozner & Jake Peralta
Comments: 17
Kudos: 305





	Anchor

It had started with a phone call.

Jake had pulled in the grocery parking lot, the evening settling in as the sun had cast an orange hue over everything in its view, temporarily blinded by the glare at an angle no sun visor could prevent. It had taken him three tries to park between the lines- any lines, even. He had been intending to prepare for a weekend alone as Amy (along with Holt at his own request and much to Amy’s delight) had left in the morning for a forensic analysis conference.

He had just cut the ignition when his phone rings. He checks the caller ID. _Roger Peralta_.

"Hello?"

_"Hey, buddy. It’s me, your dad."_

"Yeah, I got that. Caller ID."

_"Ah right, sorry."_

There is a pause. Jake pulls out a stray thread from the fabric liner of the driver’s seat as he waits.

_"How have you been?"_

"Fine, busy, I guess."

_"Cool, cool. And how’s the wife?"_

"Her name is Amy. And she’s fine. What do you want?"

_"I know her name, Jake."_

He waits again. There is an older man walking past his parked vehicle, likely a grandfather, tugging the hand of a small boy who is distracted by a foam sword he is waving around with the other. His temples begin to ache.

_"Well, I have some exciting news that I wanted to share with you. Your mom and I are getting remarried."_

"What?"

_"We’ve been back together for a while now and I just think this is the right step forward- for all of us. We can really be a family again."_

"What?"

_"Your mom said this might come as a bit of a shock to you. Listen, I know that we have a lot still to work through but I want you to be my best man and-"_

"I’m getting an incoming call from work, it’s probably a murder or something- gotta go."

Jake hangs up.

 _I want you to be my best man._ He had been craving some jalapeño poppers from the frozen food section prior to his drive over. His stomach seems to convulse at the idea now.

Two bottles of wine clang together in a thin plastic bag as Jake walks up the steps to the front door of a place he had frequented many times, although not _so_ many that his current impulse decision feels entirely comfortable.

In fact, he is distinctly uncomfortable but he thinks that might have more to do with the previous conversation playing on repeat in his head. He isn’t sure, everything feels muddled.

He rings the doorbell and in an instant, it opens.

"Jacob."

"Hi Kevin," He exclaims with less exuberance than he intends it to have, "How did you get to the door so fast? Did you sprint? Because your house is basically a mansion."

"I heard you pull into the driveway and you’ve been sitting in your car, opening and closing the door for the last twenty minutes."

"Oh," Jake replies, " Well, that makes a lot more sense than the sprinting."

Kevin inspects him for a moment, "What is in the bag?"

"Wine that isn’t labeled ‘wine drink’ this time?"

Kevin looks down for a moment as a small smile (just barely, but Jake claims it as a victory anyway) tugs at the corners of his mouth.

"Come in."

The Holt-Cozner household is not particularly homey by his own standards. There are lots of oddly placed rooms- and way too many of them- most lacking in well-worn comfortable furniture. Despite this, every time Jake steps into their home, there is a warmth, a hum of comfort that seems to envelop him.

"I’m sorry if I’m interrupting anything. I probably should’ve called first."

"You aren’t. Raymond did mention to me before he left this morning that Sergeant Santiago was the one accompanying him for the weekend," Kevin responds, "Don’t be mistaken- I’m not under the impression I would be your first choice for social company. What do I owe the honor of this impromptu visit, Jake?"

Jake fights the urge to correct him on the choice of company part but any retort would be too complicated and hit a little too close to home.

_I managed to spend over sixty days with you (with my own best friend, I could barely get through eight) and somehow, after the relief and excitement of being free from our tiny space subsided, I went home that first night and my chest ached like I was a kid that had just moved away from home, away from his fa-_

"I had a question or an issue- I don’t know," Jake fumbles, "You’re the most logical person I know. Even more than the captain- which is saying something. Last week, we had a mandatory five-hour-long seminar called ‘Understanding the Statistical Analysis of Crime Reduction and How to Apply the Data to Your Precinct’ and there are only two reasons why it was five hours instead of three: Captain Holt. And my wife."

He is lead into the kitchen by Kevin as he’d been following behind him without much thought. Cheddar is drinking water from his bowl on a placemat with the initials C.H.C labeled at the bottom. He looks up for a moment, at Jake, and his tail wags happily.

"Hm, yes. Raymond does love statistics. Did you know his younger sister Debbie once forced him to a Halloween party with a costume requirement and he went as a graph?"  
  
"Oh my god, I did not know that and now I am the happiest man alive. Do you have pictures- wait, I’m trying to butter you up here not bond over your husband," Jake says, "Although, I’d be completely down for that later if it’s on the table."  
  
"You don’t need to compliment me to ask for my advice, Jake. Let me get some glasses for this-" Kevin reads the label of the wine, "Argentinian Malbec. This isn’t a bad choice, surprisingly. How did you pick this out?"  
  
"You said once in the safe house that Argentina made the best Malbec and I was at the grocery store, saw it on sale, and I figured that’s how Malbec was spelled- what? I listen!"  
  
Kevin has an undecipherable look on this face. It is gone in an instant before Jake has a chance to analyze it thoroughly, as the older man busies himself by turning around to grab the glasses from the cupboard behind him. As he turns back, he looks unaffected.

"So tell me," Kevin begins as he pours, "What question or issue can I help you with?"

The curiosity in his tone is calming. Jake is handed a full glass and he immediately starts to chug until the intensity of the rich flavor overwhelms him. He coughs lightly when he breaks for air.

"I would advise against taking a swig of this as if it’s a beer because it has more than double the alcohol content."

"I know that," Jake rasps, "Was trying to get a headstart- I don’t drink wine. "

"I’m aware," The tone is sardonic but Jake can see a restrained affection is his expression, "Why don’t you head into the living room- I’ll join you in a minute."

"Copy that."

Jake pauses in the doorway, sheepishly, "Uh, which way is that…exactly?"

"Down the hallway, to your left."

He finds the room with more ease than he expects. It is one has been in several times before, the most memorable being cripplingly ill and the other had been a chaotic overnighter, both with the captain. It feels like stepping back several decades in time as soon as he enters, it always has. He sits down in the armchair is recalls lounging in years ago and looks around the room, shifting around in the seat to get comfortable.

Not much has changed. At least, that Jake can notice. The best description he could come up with is Holmesian ( _yes, those short stories were among the few books he did read as a kid and yes, they were difficult to understand at the time- he solved almost every mystery before the story solved it for him, something wore like a badge of honor to this day_ ) and he doesn’t dare bring it up to Kevin. He had been an occasional witness to both the professor and the captain scoffing endlessly at anything created after to what Jake felt like was the beginning of time, not to mention anything _fictional_ , enough times to know that it would be the opposite of a compliment.

His phone rings suddenly and his stomach lurches at the noise. He pulls it out of his pocket to check the caller ID.

He breathes a sigh of relief and accepts the call, pressing the speakerphone option quickly after.

"Hey, Ames- how’s the conference so far?"

_"Amazing. The best part is- today doesn’t even have the most in-depth presentations. Tomorrow is gonna be so inspiring. The captain and I got matching pens to celebrate."_

"Pretty sweet. Click or cap?"

_"Click, obviously. The superior kind. How is the weekend alone going with three liters of blue soda, two boxes of jalapeño poppers, and the limited edition Die Hard VHS tapes you bought off eBay?"_

"Do you really want to know or do you still not believe those tapes are going to work?"

_"Babe, the seller had a sixty-seven percent approval rating."_

"That’s still a pass! Anyway, I haven’t gotten to test them out yet. I stopped to visit Kevin. Still here, actually."

_"Why- is everything okay? And did you call first?"_

"Yeah, of course- he’s fine. I just hadn’t seen him around in a while, so I figured I’d drop by and catch up. Make sure he remembers all of the movie quotes I taught him. _Well_ , the movies taught him but you get the point. And no, I didn’t call first but he said it was okay."

_"And you made sure of that?"_

"Apologies for interjecting but I promise the company is appreciated. I can understand the concern though, Sergeant, considering our history,"

Jake turns around in the chair. Kevin is standing in the arched entrance, holding a plate of cheese and crackers in one hand and his glass of wine in the other. The half-empty bottle of wine is tucked under his arm. He sets the plate and the bottle on the coffee table, taking a seat across from Jake on the couch.

_"Don’t apologize, Kevin- that is way more reassuring."_

"Considering our history?" Jake repeats, "If I’m remembering things right, you’re the one who said that _you_ were going to miss _me_."

"Post-trauma does unimaginable things to the brain. I also yelled at you and smacked a DVD case out of your hand," Kevin retorts. There is no malice in it, however; his eyes are dancing in the warm artificial light and his tone is teasing.

_"You two have fun. I’ve got to get ready for the next scheduled seminar or the captain will definitely leave without me. Love you."_

"Love you too, babe- don’t scare the presenters off stage this time!"

Amy rolls her eyes as her phone displays _‘Call Ended’_ followed by two beeps and she busies herself with unzipping her bag. There is a knock at the door that connects her room to the one occupied by the captain.

"Come in."

"Are you ready, Santiago?" Holt asks after he opens the door. He is in the process of adjusting the cuffs of his dress shirt.

"Just about, sir. Guess who I was talking to?"

"I did catch the word _babe_ as I passed by the door to retrieve my blazer several moments ago so if this isn’t a rhetorical question, I think it is safe to assume you were talking to your husband."

"Yes, and _your husband_. Apparently, Jake decided to drop by for a visit and Kevin was happy for the company. His own words," She says, "I didn’t think he’d be one for unexpected guests."

"Generally, he is not but his reaction doesn’t surprise me. Kevin is very fond of him," He replies a matter of factly, "Not only that; he respects and trusts him. There are very few people that my husband would turn to for help and he instinctively went to Peralta in regards to the incident at the university when he felt he couldn’t confide in me."

His tone reflects no contradicting emotions to his words, however, she notices the corners of his mouth twitch upwards for a split second before returning to their usual stoicism.

"He did," Amy acknowledges, pausing momentarily in thought. She reaches into her suitcase before adding, "Jake told me all about the case, actually. There are some interesting terminologies Jake used when he did that I’m curious were actual quotes or just embellishments-"

"What, like ‘working-class bimbo’? Or maybe ‘hot piece of ass’?"

"Oh my god, it was all true," She whispers, mouth agape, "I owe Charles twenty bucks."

Jake hadn’t realized how hungry he had been until he throws a piece of cheese between two crackers in his mouth and his stomach nearly sings in gratitude. Cheddar had also joined them, just minutes after Kevin had taken a seat, and is now laying in view of both of them at a very particular distance from the coffee table. Jake watches the big-eared chunk for a moment.

"That’s new behavior," Kevin explains, "We believe Lieutenant Jeffords had an influence."

Jake had no doubt that he did, "Of all the betrayals, Cheddar sold you out to snack on his own kind: cheese."

"I would hope not. Dairy is only acceptable for dogs in moderation."

Jake scarfs down another cracker-and-cheese sandwich and takes a smaller swig of his wine this time. Kevin is looking at him, waiting for him, but the older man shows no visible signs of impatience.

"This might seem like a weird problem to bring to you," Jake starts, "Remember in the safe house when you mentioned to me that you weren’t close with your parents?"

"Yes, I remember. You asked me if I had spent time with them as a child and I told you rarely as they didn’t have a paternal or maternal bone in their bodies- to paraphrase."

"That was it!" Jake exclaims, "I’m sure you know that my parents weren’t around a lot."

"Oh, yes. Your response to my previous statement was ‘same, same, same’ in rapid succession. Also, Raymond has mentioned details in the past regarding your biological father once or twice."

Jake wishes that his heart hadn't clenched at the thought of them discussing his biological father. _Biological_ father. The distinction Kevin had made is an anchor that Jake will never be able to express how grounded it makes his mind feel. Intentional or not, he continues with a bit more ease, "That’s actually who this is about. Roger- my dad- called me earlier. He and my mom decided to remarry."

"Ah," Kevin responds, his blue eyes searching him.

For what, Jake isn’t sure.

"Which is fine, I think. If he has changed, then he has changed," Jake admits. He swallows another gulp of his wine, finishing off the glass, "The problem is that he wants me to be his best man. It’s one thing that he has fixed stuff with my mom and made an effort to improve their relationship and build trust, or whatever. But he throws this on me, saying that he ‘really wants us to be a family again’ and I don’t feel like he has done anything to get to know me or improve my relationship with him to deserve it. Is that selfish of me?"

_Is that selfish of me?_

Saying the question aloud makes his throat burn just a little bit. He wants to smile or crack a joke in the silence but nothing comes to him. He reaches for the bottle sitting next to the plate instead.

"Jake."

It is the softest he has ever heard Kevin’s voice. Jake looks up briefly as he pours himself some more wine.

"That is _not_ and never will be selfish of you. I didn’t learn this early enough and I wish that I had because it would have saved me a lot of guilt throughout the years: you aren’t beholden to your parents just for sharing their genetics. If he hasn’t made any attempts to show you that he wants to be not just a father, but _your_ father, that is on him. And even if he had, you don’t owe him anything either way. You never will."

Jake can’t remember a time where spending time with Roger Peralta ever made him feel as safe, as prioritized, as he did right now. He doubts the memory exists. Kevin’s words are an overwhelming validation of the voice fighting against his sense of kindness, a voice telling him to hold his father accountable.

Kevin is looking at him with intense sincerity and affection that feels different than when the captain looked at him, "If you’re not his best man in any other sense, I would encourage you not to pretend to be for their sake. You can show support in ways that don’t undermine your past experiences with him. This is just advice, mind you. The decision is yours."

"Thanks, Kev."

His voice cracks slightly. The professor is right, Jake knows he is right, and that makes Jake want to hug the hell out of him. He settles for wriggling further into what he now realizes must be Kevin’s usual chair. The captain had sat in the other one instinctively when they had been fighting the mumps together.

Kevin finishes his wine and pours himself another glass immediately after he sets his down on the coaster.

"Would you like to see pictures of Raymond’s Halloween costume?"

The weight of his decision feels as light as a feather now. _You don’t owe him anything either way. You never will._

"Yes, please. It would be the best thing to ever happen to me."

"Well, in that case- let me retrieve a few photo albums. I think I have one from the nineties you might appreciate. There are several of Raymond at Coney Island. We brought Marcus there once when he was twelve. Also, I believe I have a few just after we first met. Not an abundance, but enough that it might take us another bottle of wine to get through."

Jake doesn’t have the dignity to be embarrassed when he lets out a squeak in response, " _Yes_."

**Author's Note:**

> Set in Season 6- right after the heist, approximately.


End file.
